


kybersong

by Shadaras



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Kyber Crystals, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi goes in search of his lightsaber's crystal heart.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	kybersong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragonlingdar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlingdar/gifts).



“Master,” Obi-Wan said as he looked around the tall-grass plains of Dantooine, “why are we here?” He knew Dantooine had once been the home of a long-ago Jedi Enclave, but right now all he could make out was endless waving stalks of grass. In the distance there were some low mountains. White clouds scudded across the bright blue sky. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and as much as Obi-Wan loved Qui-Gon’s nature trips, he’d been sensing some kind of specific hidden purpose from his Master—something more than a simple survival training mission could explain.

Qui-Gon paused, two steps ahead of Obi-Wan, and glanced around himself. Then he turned to face Obi-Wan and grinned, folding his hands so they hid in his robe. “Reach out to the Force, my Padawan, and see if you can sense the answer.”

Obi-Wan tried to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He could remember being told that at least once a month since his training had started in earnest, and wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been asked that even as a newly-arrived three-year-old, just over a decade ago. But he closed his eyes, and settled his breathing, and let his body relax into soft awareness of the world surrounding him. He’d long since mastered the skill of staying upright—and even moving—while meditating, so he didn’t need to worry about falling over the way the newest younglings sometimes did.

As he sank into the Force, he first felt Qui-Gon’s oaken presence, grounded and steady and willing to bend as needed. Then the grasses and insects and fungi, and the little animals and birds that hid within the plains. Further out, larger beasts scared away by their shuttle’s landing, and—

“It’s singing,” Obi-Wan said, wonderingly. The Force rang out in a chiming chorus with no conductor, random as windchimes and gorgeous in its lack of pattern. “I’ve never heard it do that before.” But, no, that wasn’t quite right— sometimes, in the Temple, he had heard the Force sound like a choir, chords and harmony layering together into chant or lullabye or march. “Master, at the Temple it can sound like a choir, but this is… it’s like if you tied bells on a herd of fathiers, or wrote a program that turned hawkbat flight into harp notes.”

“Exactly so, my Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, and his pride flowed through the Force, settling around Obi-Wan as he opened his eyes. “Do you know what sings like this?”

Obi-Wan frowned, thinking about it. In the Temple, he’d heard this sound only when listening very hard, usually when the Council was in session or a group of Knights had arrived to take on new Padawans. And Qui-Gon was being secretive, and wanted him to figure out something important on his own. “Kyber?” Obi-Wan said. At Qui-Gon’s raised eyebrow— _Are you guessing, or telling me?_ , that eyebrow said—Obi-Wan repeated himself, more confidently. “Kyber crystals. They settle when in lightsabers, but they’re growing wild somewhere nearby.”

“Excellent reasoning, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon squeezed his shoulder. “We’re here because it’s time for you to find your lightsaber’s heart.”

Obi-Wan smiled up at Qui-Gon, not even trying to hide his delight. Every Master’s opinion of when their Padawan should build their lightsaber differed; he had some friends whose first job as Padawan had been to find their crystal and build one, but he’d been with Qui-Gon for almost a year by now. “Thank you, Master,” he said, trying to put all his emotions into the words without it being too much. “But—” and he ducked his head, laughing a little, “why here? Aren’t there multiple kyber nurseries that the Jedi maintain?”

Qui-Gon smiled at him, but seemed pleased by the question. He tugged Obi-Wan into motion, heading towards the haunting not-sound of unfocused kyber. “Excellent question, though I suspect you’ll be disappointed by the answer. It felt right to come here with you.”

“Is that how all Masters choose?”

“You’d need to ask them.” Qui-Gon shrugged a little. “I found mine when Dooku and I were on a completely unrelated mission. Some smugglers were carrying a kyber crystal among their other valuables without even realising what it was. I found it unerringly, and Dooku and I laughed about the will of the Force for the next month as I built my lightsaber. That doesn’t give me a very good standard for comparison.”

Obi-Wan sighed, and kept walking. Qui-Gon was right that the explanation wasn’t satisfying, but there was nothing he could do for it now. Besides, all of that was less interesting than learning what challenge the kyber would set for him. His friends had told him that they’d been shown deep fears or dark reflections of themselves, but if Qui-Gon had gotten his lightsaber’s crystal without such a trial, perhaps the crystals he was bringing Obi-Wan to would be just as kind.

But that wasn’t something he could control. He would just need to accept what happened as it happened, when it happened. And so he walked in silence beside his master, who was kindly restraining his pace to one Obi-Wan could keep up with easily. Qui-Gon said he thought Obi-Wan’s growth spurt would begin soon, but for now the difference in their heights—and leg lengths—was still significant.

As they travelled, the sound of shimmering chimes increased until Obi-Wan had to actively keep a heavy emotional shield up at all times. He knew how to do it, but it was harder the stronger it was supposed to be; Jedi rarely tried to cut themselves off from the Force entirely, but younglings learned to keep their emotions contained, and how to keep from sensing everything that the Force could carry, but strong feelings still came through those barriers. It was important, the teachers said, that they learn both how to protect themselves and to maintain an awareness of the living Force. Obi-Wan had been good at it, erecting and maintaining steady instinctive barriers by the time he was seven.

The kyber cut through all of that basic work with the kind of power Obi-Wan had only felt before during missions where he and Qui-Gon had witnessed a crowd tied together in a single emotion: Joy at a beloved member’s ascension to her rightful place in governance, grief at funerals, pain and fear on bloody battlefields. He’d learned to block those out, but Qui-Gon had helped. Here, as he approached what he began to understand must be a cave, Obi-Wan realised that the first challenge Qui-Gon and the kyber were giving to him was simply being strong enough to think through the ringing in his heart.

Obi-Wan swaddled his Force-sense until the kyber went back to being the clear, but bearable, sound he’d first heard. It was unsettling to not be able to feel anything else; even Qui-Gon’s Force aura was muted and barely present. He breathed slowly and steadily, calming himself; he was safe here, because Qui-Gon wouldn’t send him into danger. And many other sentients went around perfectly easily with sensory experiences similar to what he was currently experiencing, and didn’t have any anxiety at all, so his discomfort was survivable—especially since he was doing it to himself, by choice.

That didn’t mean he needed to like it.

When Qui-Gon stopped at the base of of a low hill, Obi-Wan almost didn’t notice. Then he heard the physical silence next to him and turned. Qui-Gon gazed back at him, thoughtful, inscrutable, and Obi-Wan thought, _This is how the people we help see him_. He seemed powerful and unknowable, even though Obi-Wan had heard him tell awful puns and seen him wake up in the morning with little divots on his face from falling asleep on a table where he’d been researching too late at night and knew that really, Qui-Gon could be just as strange and ridiculous as any other person.

Right now, though, Qui-Gon seemed every inch the Jedi he had dedicated himself to being. Obi-Wan straightened himself under that scrutiny and met his eyes. Qui-Gon nodded decisively and said, “The entrance is in the roots of that blba tree.”

Obi-Wan looked at the massive tree Qui-Gon’s eyes flicked to. It wouldn’t have been hard to guess, even without the hint; the tree was massive enough—old enough—that Obi-Wan suspected it could be carved into a home. It could definitely fit a platform large enough to live upon, even if it might not be up to Wookiee standards. And in the roots, Obi-Wan found a darkness, a shadow deeper than the soil. It didn’t feel Dark, the way some of his friends said their crystal caves had, but Obi-Wan could feel something in there beneath the kyber; a sense of predatory intent, he thought.

“I go in there alone?” he asked, not because it was a question he was uncertain of the answer of, but because he wanted to know what else Qui-Gon thought it worth telling him.

“You do.” Qui-Gon sighed. “I will be here. I will be tracking you in the Force, and should something truly dire happen, I will know and come to your aid. But, Obi-Wan—” his voice caught, and Obi-Wan looked back to see unguarded softness and belief that he could feel even through his muted sense of the Force “—I think you’ll do wonderfully on your own.”

Obi-Wan smiled at his mentor, then turned to face the cave’s entrance. He took a steadying breath, then strode forward, hands empty and heart full of kybersong. It would be more than enough to prevail against anything the cave could throw at him.


End file.
